Won't Stop, Keeps Turning
by Violet1979
Summary: Sloan returns with her baby. All bets are off. Post 6x18
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Won't Stop, Keeps Turning  
**Show:** Grey's Anatomy  
**Pairing:** Mark/Lexie  
**Summary:** Sloan returns with her baby. All bets are off. (Post 6x18)  
**Disclaimer: **All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
**Author's notice:** Title taken from: Wir sind Helden, Für nichts garantieren

When she sees Sloan Riley at the far end of the hall, all she wants to do is pretend she did not see her, and slip away. But somehow her eyes linger for about 0.3 seconds too long, and then she's trapped, for her legs won't do her bidding anymore. Damn her overactive brain for registering that cute baby seat in Sloan's hand.

She can't help it. She stares at it. It is turned backwards. It looks heavy. She is so screwed.

To make it perfect, Sloan is shouting "Hey Lexie" right across the hall, and thank you, dear looker-ons, for the attention. Witness the humiliation of Dr. Lexie Grey.

"Sloan," she musters all the badass coolness that she has been practicing recently, "how are you?" She won't look at that thing. Look straight at Sloan's face instead.

She's not so sure if this is the better choice, though, for Sloan really is Mark's daughter. The likeness is almost sickening. She feels queasy. Sloan looks much too tired for a girl of 18, and suspiciously close to tears. Still, the girl serves her an equally cool "Fine, thanks, and you?"

And this just sounds so wrong, it almost softens Lexie enough to relent. She may even put down that pen and look up from the file again. And if only to disperse that thick sticky feeling of embarrassment that envelops the two of them in uncomfortable silence. Three.

"Sorry you guys broke up," Sloan says softly. Lexie has never heard her use that tone of voice before. She shouldn't be surprised. Mark's daughter. More than meets the eye. She _sees _it, for heaven's sake. But she still has no answer.

Everything would be so much easier if Sloan just were some rival bitch that snatched Mark Sloan from her. By slutty means. She could handle that. She would fight back. She would hate her with a passion.

And then a little baby sound pierces the tense silence. A baby. And how could she not notice that? How could she possibly look away from that?

His eyes are open, and he's sucking on a pacifier. He is so tiny. So beautiful. Just a few light wisps. And really bright eyes as he focuses on her. As much as any newborn can focus.

And as much as she needs to turn on her heels and flee, she really needs to say something to him, or else her chest may explode.

"Hello there little darling look what we've got here sweetie" the words keep leaving her mouth on auto pilot, and he is gazing at her fingers that she is slowly waggling. As if they were all that mattered in the world.

She is already falling. And count on Sloan to make matters worse, for without a word, she sets the baby seat down and takes the baby out of it. In order to put him in Lexie's arms. Just like that.

And holding him is the most frightening thing ever. He is light, and warm, and easy, and his awesome baby scent fills her nose, and she brims over, showering him with soft baby talk. She is still aware that she so does not _want _this, of course, and what the hell is Sloan thinking, ambushing her all over again. She sniffs his head, though, and he looks at her, snuggling against her chest contentedly. How could she not adore him?

Her head is spinning, and she is cuddling Mark Sloan's grandson like what, an over-excited grandma? Please. Stop. Already. This is no situation to be caught in. And what is up with Sloan anyway, deer in headlights now or what?

Whoa, she can't believe her evil luck. Guess who has just entered on their little scene. Yeah, she feels sick, too.

Don't look at him.

Everything's fine. She was just having a close look at the baby. After all, Sloan is sort of an acquaintance. She's _lived _with her. And everybody knows she likes babies, don't they.

If only she were invisible. Why is she always the most _visible _when she is making a fool of herself? High time to dash off, clasp the baby securely in her arms and sprint.

Or she may shove the baby into his arms with some biting remark that would erase any possible misconceptions. But that won't do, no, she would have to do it gently, and this is just out of the question. Her face burns, and she is breaking a sweat. Please, someone save her.

It's the baby who starts crying. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Sloan claims him back and holds him upright against her shoulder, where he calms down at once. Not so much natural to Lexie, she feels like losing balance, and she grabs hold of the counter as inconspicuously as she can manage. _Pathetic_.

She should have said it earlier, but better late than never, right? And despite her current state of distress, her "congratulations" and "good lucks" to Sloan come out warmer and friendlier than she hoped for. Like, heartfelt, or whatever. The influence that babies exert on her is kind of ridiculous really. She would suck at neonatology.

So she snaps her file shut, and moves to leave, looking at the baby for one last time (and of course it does not break her heart), and she knows better than to look at Mark, for what good would this be, but she just is that stupid alright?

She should not have done it, because it has only got her the scary memory of Mark scrutinizing her as if she were the only person present, and what the hell is he _doing _with that strange look on his face. She so hopes that this will not interfere with her memory of holding this adorable baby.

She needs to be gone right now, as fast as she can without breaking into a full run.


	2. Chapter 2

He shakes his head vigorously in an effort to clear his mind. Is he dreaming? Sure, it seems plausible that he would dream about Lexie Grey running away from him, but why would his subconscious throw in some slapstick? Why would she almost crash into some visitors and very nearly topple their huge vase of flowers, blond mane flying dramatically?

"Dad," Sloan says tentatively. Sloan. Boy, does she look a mess. Maybe if he touches her he will know that this is no dream. And there it is, the key ingredient to his dreamy delusion. He checks it out carefully. The baby sure looks real, complete with milk leftovers on his onesie. And a surprisingly loud burp.

"Sloan," he says, and he feels a big goofy grin spread all over his face in spite of himself. "And hello there, son." He can't stop looking at him. "What's his name?"

He must have said something wrong there, because she suddenly looks even paler than before. On protective instinct, he steps closer and grabs her elbow in a move to steady her. And thank god, he is not losing it. This is real.

She hesitates on her words. He's puzzled. "He doesn't have one yet," she says finally. He waits for her to elaborate. But she won't.

Well, the urge is too great to ignore any longer, big bad mystery or not. "Can I hold him?" He needs to stop that beseeching tone. For a second it seems as if Sloan would rather not, but then she smiles somewhat dejectedly, and offers him the baby.

And his heart soars at the feel of the baby in his arms. His grandchild! It's his grandchild! And it is perfect. He counts his tiny fingers. He revels in the family likeness of his nose. Amazing, he keeps telling himself.

Yet for some reason he can't get comfortable. He wonders if he is holding him right. A recent image of Lexie holding the very same baby surfaces in his mind of its own volition. Now that looked natural. She just knew. This is not helping.

Anyways, there is something he is missing. Then he remembers. "Why doesn't he have a name yet?"

Sloan looks at him, and there's something more than just exasperation. "Because I'm not keeping him of course!" She's close to crying.

And it's a good thing he's holding the baby so he can pretend to refocus on the child. That blow hit home, and he feels the bile in his throat. He concentrates on breathing. Breathe that rage away now. Swallow that bile. Don't freak. Careful with the baby.

"Why did you come here, then?" He attempts restraint. He must be failing though, because she is downright scared of him, he can see it. He is not proud of that. But why did she come to show him what he'll be missing?

But she presses her lips together bravely and blinks the tears away. "I'm sorry, it was a bad idea." And this hangs there between them.

Until she decides to roll her eyes and follow up defensively, "But I thought about it a lot. And I wasn't sure about it, and I just can't... this is all so awful. I mean, I just, I wanted to know if you're really serious. If you're serious about him. I'm sure I can't raise him. But maybe you can."

This is not happening.

"So, I've got this adoption all set up. And there's a nice couple who would love to have him, and they have a great home, but. He'll be gone for good, won't he? And I'm not so sure anymore if I want to let him go."

Not happening.

"And you said you wanted him. And I don't want to lose - I mean, do you still want to be my dad, if I take this baby away from you? I don't know what to do."

Oh no, she is crying. And he wants to hug her, but the baby is in his arms, and he does not know how to hold the baby and hug his daughter simultaneously. So he hands him back to her, and damn it, of course she mistakes this for rejection, so he wishes he could take it back.  
There's no more alternative to embracing the two of them right now, so he does.

He tries for reassuring, for comforting.

But then, he can't stop wondering what he is feeling right now. It should be joy, right? He's that close to getting what he wanted. But it is certainly not joy. It feels much more familiar. The last time he felt this, it's not long ago. Addison's crestfallen look will stay with him his whole fucking life.

Look at what he did to his daughter, still crying in his arms. She dragged herself through this out of, what, a filial sense of duty? When she left him, he felt bad, but this feels so much worse. And about as dysfunctional as it gets. She does not want this.

He'd better own up sooner than later, because it's getting harder with every minute that passes. His stomach burns and he must have hugged them too hard, because the baby starts crying too.

She's calling his bluff. And she is right. He is not ready. He is fucking scared. And most important, and appalling, he is such a fake.

He didn't even know he was pretending, okay? He sure can sweet talk and believe it. He needs to get real, and fast.

Hell, of course he's had his doubts here and there. About being able to handle a baby with his kind of a job, all on his own, about how to feed and care for and nurture a baby. But he really _believed _his own bullshit about second chances.

No more of that. That's not what she wants. That's not what _he _wants. No second bests. Seems like his selfish pipe dream has just come to a very real end, where it is about the others. His flesh and blood. She deserves better. _Her baby_ deserves better. He'll try and be some semblance of father rather than a pitiful liability.

The shame leaves his mouth dry. Pricks at his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Sloan." He breaks away from her and takes a step back (what is this strange feeling in his chest?).

"You made the right decision. Please, carry on with the adoption as planned. He deserves to be raised by a mother and a father who will be there for him. With me, he would be on his own a lot. You know that. You owe me nothing. Please forgive me -" He struggles not to look away from her dumbstruck face. "- for pushing you this far. I shouldn't have done this. I should have supported you with no strings attached."

If he keeps staring ever harder at Sloan's big dark eyes, will the painful lump in his throat disappear? "You don't have to give me your baby to make me like you. I'm still your dad. If you really don't want to give him up, we'll figure out something else."

He takes a much-needed breath, and then Sloan gets her revenge by _smiling _at him.

"You know what," she says, "my mom told me you'd back out anyways." Her smile intensifies. "But, she was wrong. What you said, that was, that was not backing out at all. Well it was. But still, you're right."

Some healthy color has returned to her face, and she looks relieved. At least he thinks so, for he for one feels _very _relieved. And the tension gives way for a smile to mirror hers. He can't help but marvel at their connection as they just keep smiling at each other, and at the baby in between of them.

This will make it much easier to stay strong for his daughter, which is what he is going to do. They will make the most of the little time they have left with the kid. "Wanna go grab something to drink, and eat?" She agrees a little too eagerly, and it still stings that she really didn't expect him to want and spend time with her if there was no more baby.

This will be hell to deal with after her upcoming departure. And some twisted little voice chooses this very moment to taunt him with the newsflash that Lexie Grey will certainly be lost for good over all of this epic failure.


	3. Chapter 3

It's Alex who tells her, while she's almost done changing in the locker room. "So, you okay?" He has a worried look on his face.

"What are you talking about?" She so wishes everyone would stop assuming that she can read minds. And pretending to read hers.

She likes it much better when his expression shifts to impatience immediately. "Just wanted to know what you say about the latest on Sloan's daughter."

Good, she did not see Sloan and her baby again, although she didn't avoid them. She only avoided the cafeteria. She was feeling a little queasy all day. Plus, admittedly, she's had her share of staring and watching today. She has been looking forward to leaving actually, and planning to sneak into the cafeteria to get some left-overs for take-away.

So, she shrugs, and puts on her jacket, but her stomach drops precipitously, and why can't she just let it go? She bites her lip.

Alex looks at her sharply, and she sighs, because she so does not want to hear this, but he spills anyway. "I sort of expected him to back out of the adoption anyway, but how can they still be buddies after that, chatting and laughing like never before? Freaking crazy, if you ask me."

Oh, with that kind of crazy, she may well fit in. She can't even say anything, and Alex gives her a look that says 'whoa don't go crazy on me too' in no uncertain terms. She discovers that she is trembling. What the hell.

"But why?" She squeaks in a high voice, and Alex takes a step backwards. "Why what?"

"Why did he refuse?" Why did he refuse that one second chance he has been so desperately seeking? Why does he suddenly not want a baby anymore? And has he even _seen _that baby? And why did he dare refuse the kid he fucking_ left her for_?

Wait, furious is wildly inappropriate. She's just mad, or sad, or whatever. Floored.

And Alex has no answer for her, of course, and she grasps her handbag and turns without another word. Don't run. Don't make a scene. Just go on. Go home. Take the elevator and get out.

Oh my god. Fate is having fun fucking with her today.

She's in the elevator with Mark Sloan.

The doors are closing.

Now, this is past embarrassing. Fucking déjà vu. Whole new dimension of awkward.

Because he keeps looking at her. And she can't look away either. And she does not know what she is feeling, but it is just too much of anything.

And amidst that raging storm, it's inevitable that her subconscious takes the lead and discloses the first sentence it manages to identify.

"What does than mean?" Her voice is strangled. That came out wrong. And she feels tiny, and damn her skin for reddening so easily, but he won't stop looking and is it true? He doesn't seem all so cool either, does he?

Jerk. He should be scared of her.

And there it is, it's rage. And hope. And somehow her hand pushes the stop button. Of course she immediately regrets this action, but what's done is done, and his perplexed look only fuels her fire.

"What does that mean?" Now this time, better. Still the only line her language center has to offer on the state of affairs, obviously.

And how did she get that close to him? She is plainly bordering on crazy now, and she so much wants to just crash into him. Topple him. Grip him. He takes a step backwards. She follows. He _is _scared.

"Lexie, what do you want?"

Well, what do you think? What does she want? Oh, that's too much. She can't think straight.

She pushes her body against his. And kisses him. Relentless. But then his tongue follows hers into her mouth, and she is clasped tightly, and she is falling, falling.

Mark. Need. Falling.

So much like her luck when the intercom interrupts just when she was starting to get her hands under his shirt. "Do you need help?" the tinny voice taunts her.

When he lets her go, she sure is frustrated. But she stumbles back to the buttons anyways, and catches her breath and apologizes with oh so many words for mistaking the button and assuring everybody that they're fine, thank you very much. Nervous laughing is something she can pull off anytime, you know. She just keeps doing it until the doors slide open.

She does not intend to stay for the part where the awkwardness will turn into something worse. She'll abbreviate the humiliation. And what is he doing here anyway, shouldn't he be with his kids or something? She moves out of the elevator to evade as quickly as possible.

Only to be genuinely surprised when he grabs her arm then. When he tells her sternly that they have to talk, she's still so surprised that she consents.

And then he marches her towards the on-call room, and good gracious, she is so ready. And taken aback as he does not stop. She looks at him again. He's still Mark. It's Mark Sloan marching her past an on-call room, a storage room, two empty exam rooms, another on-call room. Her heart sinks precariously.

They sit in a quiet corner in the cafeteria. She fidgets. He talks. He looks at her and he wants to know what she meant by her question, for he would answer it if he knew how.

And alright, she has poured out pretty everything already, didn't she? She has to avert her eyes. But with nothing left to lose, she may as well own up. Her mouth is dry though, and she has to lick her lips first in order to get them to move.

"Sloan and the baby of course. You want them. You want them more than anything. So I'm just asking, why? I don't get it. Why would you turn down the offer of adoption?" She takes a deep breath before the plunge. "I really need to know, in order to let you go. I know you've moved on, but I. Mark. I need you to tell me, what does this mean."

She wasn't telling him anything he could not have known already, then. But in a second he will tell her that Teddy is pregnant, she just _knows_. She doesn't want to look at him, but the rules say she has to, and the wild blaze in his eyes takes her by surprise again. What game is he playing? Could he be…? No, ridiculous.

"I'll be a terrible father, that's all." He says with a sad smile.

"That's so not true." She retorts sharply. Where did that come from? Is he kidding her?

He keeps smiling his sad little smile. "Would have been bad for the baby, and bad for Sloan. She's not ready for what she offered," he elaborates. "Took me some time to realize that. They both deserve a fresh start."

She is speechless. Under her incredulous stare, his smile is slowly turning bitter. "Sure," he adds, "I chickened out, too. For as everyone knows, I have no idea how to raise a kid. Nobody in their right mind would raise a kid with me. Seems like I finally got that message into my head."

He blows her mind. He can't be serious.

"What," he snaps.

About time she contributes something to this surreal conversation. "Did you hear what you said? Please don't play this game with me. I'm embarrassed enough as it is."

Understanding dawns on his face, and he dismisses it with a snort, "_You _would not, Lexie. You made this perfectly clear."

Oh, she will be sorry. "I did not! When did I ever rule out having a kid with you? How can you be that dense! I said I did not want to raise _Sloan_'s baby _right now, without being asked first_." She emphasizes every syllable to make sure he gets it. The next part is harder to pronounce. "Of course I would have a baby with you down the road, if we'd managed to get so far. But you _pushed me out_."

"Lexie, _I _never wanted you to go. I wanted to build a life with you. You dumped _me_." He is working up a little agitation of his own now. She kind of likes it.

"I didn't dump you. You pushed me away. You chose _Sloan_. How can you expect me to put up with being second best?" You never were second best for me, she wants to add, but you see, she clings to what little pride there is left.

"I didn't see that." He looks sorry now. "I guess I screwed up worse than I thought." No, he is downright mortified. "Lexie," he starts again. And he hesitates, and the thought occurs to her that he can't say it out loud just yet.

But she suddenly realizes he wants to. It will take him a little while. Maybe she will even beat him to it. But as he is looking at her, stricken, struggling for words, somehow she is finally fine with that. She really is.

So she sits up straight, and reveals she's hungry, and asks him if he wants to share some left-overs with her, or you know, maybe go somewhere else for dinner. And when he replies by inviting her to come and have take-away with him and Sloan at home, she accepts, for there's something better than a date in order to test whether they may risk getting back on track.

She'll go with him anyway, and she'll follow the turns to see where this is heading. And her heart admits hope that he may be ready soon, to try and hold fast to her through all the revolutions ahead of them, even though there will be no guarantees.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: I apologize for missing to label the story as "complete" on . So here's part 4 of 3.

He still can't believe that he actually invited her to come over for dinner. And that she agreed to come along. As if this were the most natural thing on earth to ask and answer.

They enter the apartment building with their Chinese takeout. She's asked about his surgeries of the day, and now it's her turn to share. And she does it in the familiar way that he finds is still irresistible. Enthusiastic Little Grey, that's almost too good to be true in fact.

Is she faking it? He looks at her closely. But she seems to be good indeed. That is, until it sinks in that they are waiting in front of an _elevator_. He can tell because as hard as she tries to hide it, the way in which her flow of speech deteriorates to babbling just gives her away so obviously, he has to fight back a smirk. And he can tell because he's already been conscious that maybe today is not the time to push their luck on riding elevators together anymore.

So on impulse, he steps aside and ushers her through the door to the stairwell, offering some white lie about broken elevators and lazy maintenance in this place. If she sees right through it, she plays along well. Is that a grateful smile that tugs at her lips while she's resuming her story? It's enough to lead to the thought that maybe, they could get comfortable around each other again, some day.

All of a sudden, he is acutely aware that the apartment has deteriorated into sort of a bachelor pad since, and sadly this interferes with his focus on her lung resection surgery. He wishes he had gone grocery shopping lately. She will certainly notice his empty fridge, and he does not want her to. And he should have done some laundry. Yeah, and he hopes very hard that Teddy had not left anything lying around.

Strange, that this is how he remembers. Chances are, she will come over when she hears that Sloan arrived. If she's not there already. He's getting a little nervous now. Will he never learn his lesson about acting on impulse? It doesn't help that he has now missed a good part of her story.

And another point, what kind of father is he? He did not worry about the sorry state of his grocery stockings for a second in regard to Sloan. At least he brings her dinner now. And an unexpected guest. That used to live here. A sigh breaks free from his chest.

Lexie's looking at him with wide eyes, clearly mistaking the sound in the context that they have just arrived at 502. And he has to admit, he's feeling something quite alike to the hesitation on her face. She's not been to his apartment since. Not now.

"Do you really want me to, because I could just" she starts and waves her hand in the direction of the blue door, and then the elevator, backtracking, so he unlocks the door a little too fast for his liking and pushes it open for her, a faint echo of times past, "after you."

He has wondered what Sloan would say when she catches sight of Lexie. She hadn't exactly hidden her consternation this afternoon.

Sloan does not disappoint. "Hey. I thought you broke up!" He should have been prepared, but somehow he is not. "Hey Sloan", Lexie ignores it. So he leaves it at that. "How about having Chinese food together?" he diverts, pointing out the food bag. And he is very lucky that Sloan refrains from further verbal inquiry. He can deal with funny looks alright.

Extremely lucky, as there's no mention of Teddy whatsoever.

The baby's asleep. He goes to have a look at him, and Lexie follows. She smiles at him cautiously, and he almost manages to smile back. So maybe she meant what she said. But at the same time, the awareness rushes back that his very real, very not-just-a-dream grandson will be gone soon, and it is like a punch to the gut all over again. Something bubbles in his chest. He will not to let on.

And as they all join in setting the table and getting drinks and heaping diverse meals on their dishes, he can't decide whether they're all being awkward around each other rather than easy or the other way around. Like a crazy dysfunctional family, used to each others' quirks, but also on edge all the time. Not quite what he wanted.

They tuck in hungrily, and they talk about the things at hand, the food, the apartment, and of course, the empty fridge, and how have you been. Sloan does.

Her look lingers on Lexie's pinkie. The scar is still visible. "Does it hurt?", she asks sheepishly. "Oh, it's fine. Got other worries in the meantime, and so did you," Lexie diverts the attention, not quite aware of what she's getting into, poor Little Grey. As he's learned earlier that day, Sloan loves to recount the story of giving birth in great gory detail. From a patient's point of view. But Lexie picks up on the gruesome, and in no time, they are actually _giggling_.

So when there's knocking at the door, he is able to slip away only half-noticed by them, and thank god, it's Callie. "Are you okay?," she inquires discreetly, and then her eyebrows jump up into her hair as she hears Lexie's laugh in the background. Alright, he's begging her without words, please don't. And she understands, and she almost succeeds in hiding her utter disbelief when Lexie notices her finally. Acute embarrassment flits across Lexie's face nevertheless, he can see it. And it hurts.

"Come in," he offers, but Callie declines with a nervous laugh, "oh no, I just dropped by to return that duvet that you lent us. Thought you could use it. Need to go, we're cooking, you know…" She pushes the thing into his arms. And pulls him close and whispers, "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Not sure", he replies truthfully, "maybe just doing it."

Maybe just going along with it is what Sloan and Lexie are doing. They are talking as if he's not even there. They always did in a way. Maybe if he had just managed to make them both happier, individually, as a father, as a boyfriend, maybe it could have worked. Maybe they could have managed to be easy rather than awkward.

And against better knowledge, he's still a sucker for second chances, isn't he? He wants to analyze Lexie's words until something good comes from it. (He barely notices that his heart give a little tug at this thought) He smiles at his little grandson, sitting down close to him, his arms still full of the duvet.

He still is not 100% percent sure of what he did wrong in detail, but she felt _neglected_. Story of his life. And how ironic is that, for nothing could be farther from the truth of course. She is the one person that he for once, genuinely tried not to fail. When all he wanted was get closer to her. How could she not know this? Just look at Sloan, his greatest failure, his greatest neglect, and what trouble that got her in. And the baby. And eventually, him. Lexie.

The baby's sudden cry brings him back to reality. He lifts him carefully and cradles him in his arms for a few precious seconds. Then Sloan arrives to claim him, and when the little boy won't stop crying in her arms, she diagnoses that he must be hungry. Grandpa gets to mix the water from the thermos and the milk powder that Sloan has prepared in the kitchen earlier. It's quite a science, and he loves doing it. The baby bottle is decorated with little bears. He would have loved doing this.

When Sloan offers him to feed the baby, he says, it's your privilege.

But he can still watch and enjoy. Still, he's aware that Lexie is next to him. She moves closer, just a little. He may be imagining it. Their legs are almost touching, and it tingles in an entirely inappropriate way. He casts her a sideways glance, but can't read her expression, as she crosses her legs tightly, away from him, so he focuses on his grandson again.

This little one doesn't have a care in the world, as he contently sucks on his bottle, snuggling close to his mother's chest. He's feeling … not envy, it's more like, some yearning, or something like that. And he is sure that this image will stay with him.

For this is love, it has to be.

When the baby has finally finished his meal, and Sloan props him up against her shoulder for a little burp, Lexie breaks the silence. "He's so beautiful," she says.

And at this, Sloan finally breaks down. She starts sobbing, painful and raw. He feels helpless. His fists clench, but what use is that? He wants to apologize all over again, but his jaws won't open.

Lexie, though, she gets up and pulls Sloan into a hug, catching the baby boy between them.  
"When will you meet his adoptive parents?" Lexie asks softly into Sloan's hair.  
"Tomorrow at three", Sloan chokes. The baby is about to get his mother's mood and start crying, too, but Lexie has already taken him from Sloan and hushes him with kind murmur.  
And Sloan jumps at the opportunity to sob even louder, slumping into a heap on her seat.

"Who will accompany you?" Lexie continues with gentle insistence.  
"Mrs Miller from the adoption agency. And Mom of course." He didn't know. But he's relieved.  
"That's good." Lexie shoots him a challenging look.

"Do you want me to come, too?", he asks, and this could be his heart that is breaking.  
Sloan looks at him tearfully, "Maybe I could come here after?"  
"Sure you can, anytime," he promises. "You know that. I'll be there for you." I've told you before, and I still mean it. Doesn't depend on anything. I've already sacrificed a lot to this promise. He quickly pushes this last thought back to where it came from.

And he looks at Lexie instead, for he needs to make sure that she knows what she is buying into, this time.

And she astonishes him again as she is still focused on Sloan, "If you're not sure about the adoption anymore, you can stop it, right? Ask for more time. Figure out something else."  
"That's what he said," Sloan is clearly astonished, too, and the surprise weakens her sobbing considerably. For a second, she hesitates, and he feels his hope soaring sky high.

But then, his daughter swallows, and wipes her face, and takes back her child, and shakes her head, and says, "It's just going to freaking hurt." She snuffles and steadies herself. "Gotta study, you know, finish school first, and I want a real job someday. Look at you two. And I will get a man that loves me before ever going slutty on the rubber again."

He's heard that mantra before, and of course she is right, and honestly, he approves. Not of the language, but the spirit. Lexie just says, "I understand."

And they all sit in silence again, Lexie next to Sloan, watching the baby go to sleep again in Sloan's arms. He can guess what Sloan is thinking about, but he wonders what's on Lexie's mind. She does not look happy. But if she's sharing their pain, she's not showing it either. She just looks pensive. And she's discreetly glancing at him from time to time. He pretends not to notice, for what can he say to her on that?

The heartbreak of losing the child may well send him into cardiac arrest, and he won't forfeit his chance to have a competent doctor around. That used to live here.

The spell is broken when Sloan finally gives a huge yawn, and Lexie moves to kneel in front of her. "I wish you all the best, Sloan," she says, touching the girls' hands warmly. And then she breathes to the baby, "Goodbye sweetie." And tenderly adds in afterthought, "don't forget that I love you. All the best to you." Sloan smiles at her, tears welling up in her eyes again, and thanks her, and then carefully settles her baby down on the thick blankets and hurries to the bathroom.

He is still frozen in place. He didn't expect this display of, of whatever. He didn't expect her to leave. In fact, he has been nourishing this little hope to hold her that night. Let her hold him. Forget his misery in the midst of her heat and scent. He wasn't prepared for her leaving.

But she stood and gathered her coat and handbag and obviously waits for him in front of the door, so he finally leaps to his feet. Although he'd rather fall to his knees.

"Lexie." He wants to say, don't leave. Please come back. His throat constricts painfully. So he swallows hard, and then he kisses her instead, letting his emotions show.

And when she kisses him back hungrily, her tongue sliding against his, he gets wrapped up in it for good. His body reacts to hers of its own accord, in an embarrassingly obvious way. And she responds by pressing up against him on purpose. The feel and smell of her is plain overwhelming. He _remembers_. And just as he _understands_ that they are going to tear off each others' clothes right where they're standing (and something in the back of his head desperately tries to warn him why this is no good idea at all) – she breaks away. And nearly jumps backwards. And throws open the door.

But she turns to face him again. Dark eyes, so very dark. Her hair is tangled. He remembers he used to do a lot of tangling. She is stunningly beautiful. Nobody could expect him to not be aroused. He shouldn't feel embarrassed about this.

Again, she opens her mouth and words come out he didn't see coming. "If this is how you feel," her eyes flutter uncertainly, but she resumes, "If this is really how you feel, please try and find words for it too. Take your time." She looks at him as if considering how to best astonish him some more. And she is still busy calming down from kissing, which does a strange thing to his stomach. "This time, it's like, it feels like, I've got to have words first."

A breath passes. "And this time, you will have nothing else on your mind, like, you know, sex of any kind, mar-, your best friend's marriage, children." She speaks hesitantly, but clearly. This does not come easily.

"Not anything else. It will be just me. And you will mean it." Her eyes are wide and very dark, and the look of shock on her face is probably mirrored by his. She feebly trails off, "see you around then." And then she's gone.

He stares after her, and he has the feeling that he knows exactly what she is talking about.

She is probably right.

If he spelled it out to her already, he would have to admit it to himself as well.

He sort of had it coming, for showing her in all the ways he's proficient in fell short with her before. And as much as he's dying to _show_ her, she is right, and he is in for the challenge of stripping, for a change, his very soul.

He'll do it. He paces the room and eyes his phone. He picks it up. And sees that Teddy left him a voice mail. And yeah, he's not proud of this, but he's just not in the right mood now to talk to Teddy in the kind way that she deserves. It's not you, it's me. It's me being trusted. It's me stripping bare.

He can't call her now, too, for Sloan returns from the bathroom and lies down on the sleep couch, baby by her side. He wishes he could kiss them goodnight, like a real father, nothing awkward about it. He sticks to words, though, knowing full well that this will not be a good night.

As he sinks into bed himself, the phone is still in his hand. He is intensely aware of a heavy heart in his chest. The second he closes his eyes though, memories of Lexie flash behind his eyelids, of moments where she's far past talking, the sensual detail almost close enough to touch, much closer than recently. He's hard in an instant. He'll need to care of this eventually. Even when what he really wants right now is make _her_ come so hard that she'll know once and for all how he fucking _feels_ about her.

For all he knows, she didn't promise anything. She may well be with Karev right now. His eyes blink open.

She's let him down so very hard, and does she even know? If he's taking that leap, she'll be going down with him too. He'll damn well challenge her to spell it out for him too. He needs to know too, for to be honest, he does not know anything anymore. This ride is going to leave him dizzy, he can guarantee that.

He blinks a few times, but now that the whole mess really sinks in for the first time, the tears won't go away so easily.


End file.
